"Well, did you find your dorm," George asked.

"Make any new friends," Fred added.

I shrugged. "Alicia seemed nice enough," I said. "But none of the girls knew of anybody new, except from you scaring them, Fred."

"Well, they've heard of you now," he said, laughing.

George took my arm. "Let's go. McGonagall might know."

"Who?"

The twins practically gasped in horror. "Dumbledore didn't tell you about the scariest witch of them all," Fred asked.

"She's absolutely terrifying," George said, clutching at me. "At any moment, she could sneak up behind you."

"Like this!" Fred grabbed me from behind and tickled me.

"Stop it!" I laughed. "You're just kidding about that, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't be too sure about that."

We all spun around to see an older woman dressed in velvet robes, standing behind us. "I am Professor McGonagall," she said. "And they seem to have been right about my sneaking up on people. But I am in no way the scariest witch of them all," she said, slapping Fred on the back of the head. "And who might you be, my dear?"

"I'm Carrie, uh, Philips, I suppose," I said.

"You suppose," McGonagall asked. "And why wouldn't you be sure?"

I sighed. Only the thousandth time I've ever had to explain my unsure parentage. "My mother's last name was Philips, but she never signed that as my last name," I said. "In fact, I've never seen my full name written out on anything. She never told me who my father was either. So, I've just been Carrie. Er, Phoenix Carina, actually."

McGonagall sighed. "Well, it will be hard to place you in a dormitory with that," she said. "Most of the girls dormitories are by last name, though a certain few were placed in other rooms by request."

"So, I don't have a room, then," I asked.

The professor laughed. "Well, of course you do, child," she said. "I'll just have to find out a few things from Dumbledore is all." She patted my head. "Stay out of trouble," she said. "Those Weasley boys are always getting into mischief."

As she spun on her heel and took off around a corner, I could have sworn I saw a tabby-striped tail swish around the corner instead of the back of her robes.

"So that's why she's the scariest witch ever," I asked, turning to Fred. "Her magical ability to sneak up on you?" I laughed.

"Laugh all you want right now, Carrie," he said. "It just gets spookier the longer you're exposed to it."

"He's right you know," George replied. "It's just eerie how she does it sometimes."

I sighed. "Well, until I have a room, I have no place to put these." I set my uniform pieces down on the large, overstuffed chair in the corner. With all the tickling and running I had been submitted to, the pieces were unfolded and in all different states of wrinkled. "Thanks for the tickling, you guys," I said, sarcastically.

George took the vests and folded them neatly, picking pieces of dust off them as he did. Fred, on the other hand, took quite an interest in playing with my tie, scarf, and shoes instead of actually helping.

"You know, you could've helped fold my pants, at the very least," I said.

Fred, ever the dirty-minded one, waggled his eyebrows at me. "You sure you wanted them folded?"

"Yes, positive," I said, pushing his face out of mine, and laughing.

"Leave her alone, Fred," George said, chuckling. "You're gonna scare her off, and you need all the friends you can get."

Playing hurt, Fred turned to his brother. "You mean I'm the friendless one?"

"Yes," George said. "All our friends just hang out with you because you're my twin." He laughed good-naturedly.

Fred joined in the laughter. "Alright, alright," he said. "I apologize for my joke, Carrie." He took my hand and kissed the back of it. "But, should you ever need a dirty-minded quip, you know where to look." Waggling his eyebrows again, he backed away and sat on the couch. "Anybody else absolutely STARVING," he asked.

Stacking my clothes on the chair, I replied, "Famished. Shall we head to the kitchens?"

"You read my mind," Fred said, jumping up. "Let's go, all." He took my hand and pulled me toward the portrait-hole.

George trailed behind, grabbing my other hand once we were on the staircases. "What shall we have to eat once we get there," he asked.

I thought for a moment. "A little of everything?"

"This is my kind of girl," Fred said, smiling at me. "A bit of everything!"

We joked and laughed all the way down to the kitchen, and when we got there, another portrait awaited us. This one was a huge painting of a bowl of fruit.

"How do we get in," I asked. "This one doesn't have a person to talk to."

"Just wait," George said. "Watch Fred. He's a master at guessing passwords."

Fred stepped up to the portrait, cleared his throat over-dramatically, took a deep breath… And began tickling the pear on the portrait. The pear giggled as the boy tickled it mercilessly, and the portrait swung open to reveal a door, which opened into the kitchens.

"Thank you, oh master of portraits," I said, stepping through the kitchen door.

"Anything, for the lady," Fred said, dramatically kissing my hand.

I wiped the back of my hand against his shirt, as if he had gotten spit all over it. George laughed at his brother.

A multitude of house-elves descended upon us, asking in a thousand voice round if we required anything. Zinger, the house-elf I had assisted just a day or so ago, recognized me right off. She ran through the crowd, and pulled Pinky to the front, practically shoving her at me.

"Carrie!" Pinky clutched at me as if she was drowning and I was her life preserver. "How did Carrie do in Diagon Alley? Pinky is sure that she will be a good witch."

I hugged the small house-elf, promising to tell her all about it, once we had gotten something to eat.